Impropriety
by Maeghan Sullivan
Summary: Terrible circumstances can certainly bring people together - if the Inquisition has taught anybody anything - but when people come together, things do not always work out as they should. Inquisitor Trevelyan and Commander Cullen are about to find that fact out firsthand, and question the importance of professionalism along the way. f!mage!Trevelyan/Cullen
1. Prologue

**A/N: Because I have finished DA:I, there is a decent likelihood that spoilers from the game will slip in here and there without me even noticing. More importantly, several major spoilers will be at least mentioned in passing, though all of the ones that I know of so far are revealed early enough on in the game. Still, I make no promises, so be aware that if you are reading this, you very well might encounter spoilers. Also, be aware that this story is rated M for sexual themes that will present themselves in the coming chapters.**

PROLOGUE

Templar.

She'd recognized him for what he was the second her eyes had landed on him, the only recently finished battle all but forgotten. Solas had stood at her side, complementing her on her proficiency when it came to closing the rifts, but she hadn't been paying attention.

_Templar_.

The way he'd moved as he approached, the way his shield had been angled down, the way his gaze had flickered over both her _and_ Solas, even as he'd spoken to and approached the Seeker... He was a Templar, alright; she could have recognized one anywhere.

She hadn't flinched away as he approached, hadn't stiffened even the tiniest bit, as the elven mage beside her had done. No, for some reason, despite the chaos of everything that was going on around them, Evelyn Trevelyan had _relaxed_. A Templar - finally, something _familiar_!

All of Thedas was spinning out of control, and had been for what felt like _forever_, and while some of the mages seemed to revel in the 'freedom' they had found at the start of the Rebellion, Evelyn was not one of them. Who could prefer endless, senseless fighting to the laughter that was shared by the entire Tower in the dining hall of the Circle? Who could prefer seeing friends dying left and right, when not too long ago those same friends had been gathered in celebration over a successful Harrowing? Who could prefer demons and abominations running amuck, where people once lived happily, safe from such dangers?Who could prefer the chaos of recent times to the order that once existed? Certainly not she.

Cassandra had gestured to her, and Evelyn had been snapped out of her relief, once again painfully aware of the situation at hand. Familiar Templar or no, her nice, ordered life wasn't back. Not yet.

When she'd awaken three days after opening and properly sealing the first rift, that nice, ordered life of hers hadn't been back yet, either, but with the rift closed, things were at least moving in the right direction. _The_ _Herald of Andraste_ - that was a title that would take some getting used to, but it was one she definitely preferred to _The Prisoner_.

It was on that day that she'd been informed that the Commander was a _former_ Templar - a former _Knight-Captain_ and then _acting Knight-Commander_ of the Templars in Kirkwall. It might have been a surprise, had she felt that it mattered even the slightest bit. She wouldn't have gone so far as to say that 'once a Templar, always a Templar,' was a valid statement, not when so many former Templars had gone rogue and had begun breaking their vows and harming innocents, but Commander Cullen? Oh, separated from the Order or not, he still was what he was.

He'd proven that when, only moments after she'd joked to Cassandra about there being no harm in powering up the mark on her hand that they barely understood, he'd objected to the suggestion of approaching the rebel mages, on the grounds that pouring magic into the mark could very well destroy everything. She'd been unable to resist sending a pointed look in Cassandra's direction at that.

Following the meeting, Evelyn had been sent to the Hinterlands to speak with the Revered Mother, stabilize the region, and search for ways to gain more influence for the Inquisition. They were tasks unlike ones she had been given in the past, but they were tasks nonetheless, and, all things considered, she'd been happy to have been assigned any task at all. Direction, order, a job to do; that was familiar enough.

As chaotic as the world was, she'd figured working with the Inquisition would be as ordered and familiar as was possible.

She hadn't factored in the possibility of that Templar of theirs becoming a little _too_ familiar.


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

The Templar thought of her as a mage.

She could tell, the way his silent observations of the sparring recruits always turned into silent observations of the recruits _and_ her, whenever she wandered nearby to speak with Cassandra. She could feel his gaze on her as she weaved her way in and out of different sparring pairs, easily dodging one man as he tripped backwards and fell to the ground. The Commander shouted something at the fallen man about being dead if he'd been facing an actual enemy, and Evelyn had snorted a bit in amusement, continuing to weave between sparring pairs before making her way over to the Seeker, who - as always - was found beating a poor dummy to death.

"Herald," the woman said in greeting, as her shield smashed against the dummy.

"You're upset with me." It wasn't a question; the darker-haired woman had made it abundantly clear at the last meeting of the War Council.

The woman didn't even glance in her direction. Blade slicing at the dummy's side, she only grunted. "You almost got us killed."

"Every battle we're in almost gets us killed."

"No! _This_ was different! We had an enemy to fight, and you tried to _run away_!"

Her lips parted as the redhead heaved out a sigh. "Cassandra-"

"Solas got knocked to the ground and Varric got surrounded!"

"I'm a _mage_, Cassandra!" Evelyn stressed, walking around the row of dummies so that she could look the warrior in the eyes as the woman continued to hack away. "If four rogue Templars are rushing me, I _cannot _stand there and _wait_ to be overwhelmed. Do you know why Solas was unconscious? Because he was standing too close to _three_ different Templars who _smote_ him! The fourth had cleansed the area, Cassandra; I was far enough away from the smite that I only managed to _fall over_, but I couldn't cast any spells. What should I have done?"

Fiercely determined blue eyes looked up at her. "_Not_ run away."

"I wasn't _running away_, Cassandra! I needed to get out of the affected area, get far enough out of reach of the Templars so that I could cast safely. If that looked like I was running away, then-"

"You _hid_ behind a tent."

"For _two seconds_ while I drank a health potion and waited for my mana to return. I was _not_ running away; I would _never_ leave anyone behind!" When her assertion was met with silence, the Herald took a calming breath and shook her head. "Varric was _fine_, Cassandra; he used Stealth and got away from the Templars. And _I_ revived Solas, the _second_ that the Cleanse Area wore off. It _wasn't_ the closest call we've ever had."

Two more smacks of the blade against the dummy, and the warrior's arms dropped to her side, her practice apparently over. Sheathing her sword once again, the Seeker raised a hand to wipe sweat from her brow, her gaze never leaving the mage before her.

"Cassandra-" Evelyn tried, only to be interrupted as the woman lifted a hand to halt her.

"Commander!" Cassandra then shouted out, her gaze remaining locked on Evelyn even as the military advisor several yards away looked over in confusion. "I need to borrow your youngest Templar for a moment!"

The redhead's eyes widened, unable to imagine any good reason why the Seeker would want to bring a Templar into any of this. "Cassandra!" she tried again, hissing out the name on a whisper, even as two fully armored men approached, one looking eager, and the other looking extremely confused.

"What did you need with-"

"Come," the short-haired woman interrupted, grabbing the young Templar by the shoulder and urging him forward.

Evelyn followed obediently, trailed by the rather concerned-looking military advisor. The four of them made their way away from the sparring recruits and down the slope, putting more distance between where they stood and where the rest of the residents of Haven were... and in the process only putting Evelyn on _higher_ alert.

Cassandra stopped rather suddenly beside the frozen water, releasing the young man in her grip and pointing a decisive finger in Evelyn's direction. "Smite her."

"_Woah_, what!?" the mage immediately exclaimed, stepping back several feet as she looked between the three warriors standing across from her. The Seeker wasn't one to joke, and that stone-cold expression on her face had never been more terrifying. "I already tried to tell you-"

"But that's the _Herald of Andraste_, Serah! I couldn't..."

"Lady Cassandra," the Commander interjected, his wary gaze flickering between the Seeker and the Herald, "might I ask _why_ you intend to have my man smite the Herald?"

"Because she needs to _learn_, Commander," came the curt reply. "Now, _smite her_!"

"_Cassandra_, I..." the Herald attempted one last time, still taking careful steps backwards, her hands up before her in a gesture of surrender.

"Smite her, _now_, or _I_ will, and she'll end up-"

The Seeker didn't have the chance to finish her statement, for all of a sudden, the air rippled with power and Evelyn went flying backwards, slamming into the ground as her breath - and all of her mana - left her. With a groan and a weak cough, the mage rolled onto her side, straining as she lifted herself up onto her elbow, looking up and waiting for the blurry shapes to settle down and form the figures of the three warriors still standing on their feet. And when those shapes finally did settle down, it became abundantly clear that Cassandra's plan hadn't gone exactly as expected, for that young Templar beside her looked as surprised as possible. No, it was the Commander beside them, fingers still pressed to his temple, who looked as if he'd been expecting her to fall at that exact moment.

"Get up."

The Herald almost ignored the Seeker's order, her shocked expression still fixed on the Commander, who, as it was, was looking right back at her, his usual serious, impartial expression in place. It took her a moment to tear her gaze away, and then it took her an even longer moment to struggle to her feet. Out of energy, her balance was shaky at best, but she managed to stay on her feet, her attention shifting back to the Seeker.

"What...?" It was all she could manage, out of breath and suddenly exhausted as she was.

"Dodge!" It was the only command given, before the Seeker lunged forward, sword once again in hand as the blade swung toward her.

Evelyn leapt to the right, ducking down and rolling a bit as she hit the ground for the second time in two minutes. With no energy, it wasn't possible for her to quickly get to her feet, but she was at least able to continue rolling fast enough to dodge her attacker's second swing. It was the third swing that was going to be problematic, for she was dizzy and confused even as she saw the blade coming down toward her. Flinching, her eyes snapped closed and her arms lifted to protect her face.

That didn't turn out to be necessary, though, for a loud clang of metal hitting metal erupted just beside her body. Green eyes flying open, the Herald looked up to see the Commander standing beside her, his blade extended and blocking the Seeker's, a disapproving look on his face as he eyed the warrior before him.

"Lady Cassandra, lower your weapon."

"The blade is dull, Commander; I would not risk the Herald's life with a sharpened weapon."

"Your weapon, Lady Cassandra."

Though she made a noise of disgust, the Seeker pulled away, bringing the dull weapon along with her. The Commander's weapon disappeared only a second later, sheathed at his side as a hand extended in front of the fallen woman. He spared her no glance as he pulled her to her feet, his grip immediately releasing the second she was stable. Again, he didn't even glance her way, simply stepping toward the Seeker, his body positioned easily between the two of them.

He was a Templar, that was for sure.

"Commander-"

"You want the Herald trained to fight Templars? We can do that. But there is a reason _you_ are not in charge of training, Lady Cassandra," the advisor explained, his tone firm but not unkind. "Your attempt to minimize the smiting was well-intentioned, but a Templar who only just finished his training is unable to control the strength of his smiting. You need a _Lieutenant_, and you need _time_. Mages are trained exclusively as _ranged _fighters, Lady Cassandra. She does not know how to dodge. She does not know how to defend against smiting. She does not know how to _function_ without mana. You expect too much from her."

He was defending her, of that Evelyn was sure, but she could not help but be a bit offended by the Commander's assessment. Fair and accurate or not, a blow to the ego never felt very friendly.

"Or perhaps, Commander, you expect too little." A long look Evelyn didn't have the ability to assess, and the Seeker backed down, turning on her heels and walking away. "Fine; you win. _You_ train the Herald so that she can stand against rogue Templars."

Turning to the younger man who Evelyn had almost forgotten about, the Commander gestured behind him. "Bring me Lieutenant Davis, a practice shield, and a wooden sword, and a staff. Actually, retrieve a few lyrium potions as well."

The dark-haired man bobbed his head and slammed an arm across his chest in salute, before quickly turning and doing as instructed, leaving the Commander and the Herald momentarily alone. She straightened immediately, still lacking most of her energy, but unwilling to do anything but stand tall under the Commander's scrutiny as he turned to her.

"Our Seeker has a point," he declared as he stepped closer to her. "If you are going to be facing rogue Templars, then it would be... _prudent_ to ensure you are equipped to handle them. ..._If_ you are willing to train, that is."

She immediately gave a firm bob of her head. "Of course, Commander."

His own head nodded once in response. "Then you should know that this will take time, and more effort than any of your studies in the past have required. Mages are not meant to be a match for a Templar," he added, the words obvious but the meaning behind them necessary. "We _cannot _train you to become _immune_ to a Templar's talents - it is simply not possible, no matter how exposed you are to them - but, Maker willing, we _will_ be able to train you to _avoid_ them, to _survive_ when you are inevitably affected by them."

She wondered if he knew that he looked as though he was attempting to bolster up a contingent of young soldiers before sending them to their sure deaths.

"A smite _can_ affect an entire area, but it is most often used by Templars as a _targeted_ attack. If a Templar intends to smite you, you can safely assume assume he plans to _target_ you, which means you have a chance to _dodge_. You will not be able to dodge it _completely_, because even when it is targeted it can affect nearby enemies, but you need only get out of the way of the _brunt_ of the force, and you will still have some energy left. To do that, you need to recognize when a Templar is about to smite you. Close your eyes."

The command seemed to come out of nowhere, but Evelyn did as instructed, not questioning it for even a second. Eyes closed, she instinctively relied on her other senses, and couldn't help but notice the somewhat headache-inducing sound of repeated clamoring and shouting coming from the training recruits at the top of the hill.

"Focus on your connection with the fade. I can feel the slight tug on it when you draw upon your magic, and if you pay careful attention, you should be able to feel..." he trailed off, and she got the nagging suspicion that he quieted only because he was about to send a smite her way. She focused, eyes pinching together as she did her best to rid all of her other senses from her mind and focus only on the Veil.

_Nothing_. That is, until she felt a wave of energy hit her - strong enough to force the breath out of her, but not strong enough to knock her out of the way. It was a smite, but it was a weak one, and - by the feel of it - one that hadn't even been targeted in her direction.

"Try again."

Shaking her shoulders in an attempt to let go at the frustration she felt building within her, she drew on her magic, focusing on the admittedly low amount of mana that coursed through her veins. It was a connection to the fade, and with it, perhaps she could...

"Good," he told her, evidently able to feel her pull at her magic. "That might work. Focus on _that_."

A moment later, that wave came again, her breath escaped her, and she was left once again to try and force the frustration out of her mind and body.

"Again."

She wondered if he knew how impressive it was that he was able to give such a curt command in a way that conveyed nothing but patience and faith.

This time, still pulling on her magic, she _also_ tried to pull on that feeling of relaxed familiarity she had felt when she had met him those weeks ago, the feeling of peace that she had felt while meditating on the upper levels of the Ostwick Circle Tower.

_There_! The slightest of tugs, she could feel it! And then the wave came, just as before.

Something on her face must have giving her away, for the Commander had immediately shouted a congratulatory _"Good!"_ her way. "Wherever you just put yourself, open your eyes, and put yourself there again."

She opened her eyes without hesitation, easily finding his warm amber gaze and locking into it. She kept that touch on her magic, still focusing on the familiar peace of her home at the Circle, but her gaze never left his. She half expected him to give a sign of some sort, to have some tell that would come right before the smite, but instead, as she felt that tiny little tug on the Veil, she stared right back at a face that betrayed absolutely nothing. That was, until he smiled at her, just as the weak little wave rippled through her.

"Good!" he proclaimed again, dipping his head in a decisive nod, just as the man from before came, carrying a crate and shadowed by another man in Templar armor. "Now you just need to learn to _dodge_. Lieutenant," he started, turning to the new man and dismissing the younger one with a nod of his head, "I need you to train the Herald to dodge incoming attacks. Alternate between the drills we use on the recruits, and _weak_ smiting."

"Commander?"

The Inquisition's military advisor bent over, rifling through the crate and pulling out the wooden sword and shield, which he immediately handed to his Lieutenant. He tossed the staff to Evelyn, not watching to see her lunge forward and rather awkwardly catch it. "You heard me, Lieutenant. Herald?" His gaze was on her again. "That staff is to _block_ with, not to cast with. Do not use _any_ of your mana, and tell the Lieutenant the _second_ you get to the point where you need lyrium. _Three bottles,_" he emphasized sternly in the warrior's direction. "Three bottles, and then this training is _over_. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Commander."

With one last glance in Evelyn's direction, the advisor dipped his head and stepped away. "I want _no_ righteous striking, just _regular_ training blows. Treat her... treat her as you would a young boy, eager to learn but with no experience." And, with those parting words, he took his leave, heading straight back to where he always stood, watching over the recruits and calling out advice.

Again, she felt that not-so-friendly punch to her ego, but she said nothing.

"Herald?" She looked up to see the Lieutenant, eyeing her with a look of determination. "On your order."

She gave a nod, gripping the staff firm in her hand. "I'm ready."

He swung the wooden sword in her direction immediately, and with more energy coursing through her veins, she was able to leap out of the sword's reach and land on her feet. The Lieutenant swung again, this time coming in from above, and she instinctively raised the staff above her, gripping it in both hands and using it to block the sword's path. It worked better than anticipated, but while she grinned in victory, the man across from her arched a pointed eyebrow, and she very quickly realized that she was backed into a corner of sorts.

"Good instincts," he told her as he pulled away, "but next time, don't just block, _push back_. Use the move to protect yourself, and then to give yourself enough room to make a clean escape. Again."

He did the same combination of swings again, allowing her to step to the side and then raise her staff in defense once again. This time, however, she gripped the staff and pushed upwards with all her force, repelling his blow and giving her time to spin to the right, staff poised for an offensive strike that she wouldn't make.

The Templar nodded his approval, and then, before she knew it, she was knocked to the ground, the man not having moved an inch. _Maker!_ She'd forgotten about the smiting! Giving no more than a groan before she rolled to her side and pushed herself up on her hand's and knees, she found a hand in her face and a smile on the Lieutenant's face. Their forces were kind-hearted, she'd give them that.

"How're you doing?" he asked as he pulled her to her feet, even ducking down to pick up the staff and hand it to her.

She answered the question by pulling on the little that remained of her mana, knowing he'd easily be able to sense her actions. "I can handle another round first," she informed him, answering the question he hadn't verbally asked.

"Good, but you'll need to work on your evasion first. Here, swing your staff at me."

She took a second to ground herself once more, keeping a handle on her magic and trying to call forth the serene peace she had grasped at earlier, before she swung the staff and watched carefully as he bounded just out of reach, his balance never once leaving him. Catching her gaze, he nodded pointedly at his feet, before doing the same motion two more times.

She attempted to memorize his stance, but on the third attempt, there was a tingling in the back of her mind that she recognized as a subtle shift of the Veil. She moved quickly, attempting to replicate those same steps of his as she tried her best to get as far out of the way as possible. With only a split-second head-start, she did not get far, but her timely side-step saved her from the worst of the smite, and she only wavered on her feet for a second.

The Lieutenant looked surprised, his gaze flicking over her for a moment, before an expression of enlightenment lit up his face. "_Ah_," he drew out, "_now_ I understand. On your order, Herald."

"Now."

And, like that, the two continued on, the Lieutenant very clearly going easy on her, while the Herald struggled to keep a focus both on the physical blows, and on any potential changes in the Veil. Feeling for the warning before a smite was far more difficult with her eyes open and focused on different things, with her mind pulled in multiple directions. She considered herself _lucky_ about half of the time, while the rest of the smiting surprised her and knocked her to the ground. The Lieutenant was always there to offer a hand, however, and it wasn't until the second time that she asked him for a sip of the lyrium potion that he stopped asking after each smite whether she was doing alright. The bottles were small, but when the Templar was smiting with as little force as possible and giving her time between each smite, she found she didn't require much to get her back on her feet.

As it was, when the sun came down, and the Commander wandered back over to see how everything had been going - though she had the suspicion that he had actually been observing from the top of the hill for the majority of the time - only a bottle and a half had been used. The Commander had stooped to check the lyrium supplies himself.

"You've made progress," he noted, addressing the both of them.

"The Herald still requires practice avoiding strikes when flanked and from the right, but her improvement is obvious. And then, Ser, she _will_ need to attempt the same maneuvers _while_ under attack with righteous strikes."

"Indeed." Once more, the Commander's warm amber gaze was on her, appearing pleased. "Further practice can wait, of course, for it is time to eat. And then you should _rest_, Herald. You have other duties to attend to, but you may borrow Lieutenant Davis whenever you wish to continue training, so long as you do not overexert yourself."

"Of course, Commander."

His serious, sober expression returned almost immediately, his blonde head giving a dip before he turned on his heels and left without another word.

Perhaps Varric was right, and the man did spend too much time with a serious expression on his face.


	3. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

The Templar thought of her as a recruit.

Or, at the least, he treated her as one. Or she treated herself as his recruit. It was something along those lines... she never had been able fully understand what Sera was trying to say.

"You're good, yeah?" the peppy blonde elf had declared when Evelyn had decided to stop by and check in. "I like you. You're small. Not like them. Like me! Or, not like me. You should be more like me. They talk, you know? I don't hear it."

The redhead's brow had furrowed as she'd stared at the woman, lips pursed in confusion. Carefully, she had taken a seat, still trying to sort out the meaning from Sera's message. "I... thank you?"

"Well, yeah," had been the easy response. "You should. Or not, really. It's you, yeah?"

"Sera..." She'd drawn out the name carefully. "I'm not following."

"Well you are, really. That's what I mean."

"I'm following?" she'd repeated slowly, churning the idea over in her head. She'd leaned back against the pillowy surface. "What am I following, exactly?"

"No. Who."

"Alright, _who_ am I following?"

"Them, duh."

"And they are...?"

A loud, exasperated sigh had announced the elf's displeasure. "_Them_," she'd repeated. "You follow them."

It had taken a lot of effort for her to keep her mouth shut at that point, to not allow herself to point out the massive flaw in her companion's logic. Or lack there of, as it was. Taking a breath, the mage had closed her eyes and tried to identify anyone she followed. Knowing Sera, her mind had immediately looked to nobles that she had been involved with, but none of that had been recent. No, recently... "Oh, my advisors?"

"Yeah, they talk."

Suddenly enlightened, the redhead's lips had parted to form an 'o' shape. "And you think I shouldn't listen."

"Duh."

A nod. "And why is that?"

"Well, it's obvious, innit? You're you. With the... thing. But you're a recruit. Stop being a recruit."

"i..." Evelyn had trailed off for a moment there, still struggling to keep up with the other woman. The mark on her hand was obviously the 'thing' the elf had spoken of, but the last part took her a moment longer to figure out. "You think I'm taking orders? They give me advice, Sera, not orders."

"And this here's a sovereign," the elf had returned, nudging forward a copper. "Spend it, yeah?"

"I _can_ see, you know..."

"Good, yeah? See."

Again, the Herald's lips had parted. "You think I don't question their advice."

"You're a recruit," had been the chipper confirmation from the elf.

"I do question them, though. I don't go with plans that I think are too risky. It's why we're not going to try and infiltrate Redcliffe Castle - because I didn't just blindly listen to their plan."

"_Their_ plan, sure. But not his plan."

"His plan? You think I don't question Cullen?"

The elf's only response had been to fix a pointed, unappreciative look in the Herald's direction.

"I question him!"

"When?"

"When I..." Oh, wait. Her mind had spun as she'd attempted to come up with an example, but she realized very quickly that she didn't have an example to use. She didn't question him, but she had a legitimate reason for that. "Okay, Sera. What am I supposed to question? His advice is sound; he's our military advisor for a reason. He's cautious, and doesn't pitch ideas that put our men in unnecessary danger. His plans don't have holes in them, so there isn't anything to question. It's not like I always side with him over the others, or anything."

Sera had leaned forward in her cross-legged position to grab the drink she'd abandoned earlier, taking a deep sip of it before her expression lit up in one of enlightenment. "Oh! It's because you're you, right? And he's him?"

She'd tried. She really had, but... "You've lost me, again."

"Well that's it, innit? You're lost. Out of the cage for once, but you want back in. So, him."

"Out of the...? Oh! The Circle? Really, Sera, it isn't a cage. And this has nothing to do with-"

"You don't follow Bull."

She'd snorted at that - loudly. "Bull's advice half of the time involves something inappropriate. Cullen's involves strategy. Fair strategy."

"Well, yeah. Because he's him."

"So... you're telling me that I shouldn't listen to him... _because_ he makes sense?"

"Sort of," the blonde admitted. "But really, no. You're you, yeah? Be you. Don't be a baby bird."

"Sera, I-"

"No, wait! Not a bird, a mabari. Don't be his mabari."

"I'm not-"

"Yeah, right? You're not. Don't be. Be like me. Don't listen."

She'd immediately bit back a retort, a loud huff of a breath slipping out of her. "Alright, Sera," she'd conceded, though the words had truly been nothing more than her way of ending the conversation. She hadn't truly believed the other woman to have made any sense, but that was nothing new. And so, with a nod and a strained smile, she'd taken her leave.

And had immediately allowed her mind to wander. Commander Cullen was a Templar; did she treat him differently because of that? Was she so used to readily accepting direction that she did so now without really thinking it through? She questioned Cassandra. She questioned Leliana and Josephine, but she _didn't_ question Cullen, not on his strategy. When he said that something was the best play, she took him at his word, but didn't extend the same benefit to the others.

Cassandra, she listened to and respected. The Seeker was unwavering in her faith, and would never lie to her, but the woman was also a bit too brash at times, and Evelyn often did take the woman's advice with a grain of salt, giving time to avoid hasty mistakes. Leliana was cunning, Evelyn knew, and yet when the Spymaster had offered up a plan that she had sworn would get them inside of Redcliffe Castle, she had pulled back, immediately siding with the Commander in believing it too risky. Josephine was brilliant when it came to diplomatically solving things, yet Evelyn often tired of the Game, and debated whether it was worth their time and resources to appease a jilted noble. She didn't debate Cullen. Sure, she sided with the others just as often, when their plan seemed the most sound, but even in choosing another choice, she never truly questioned the man, never looked for the flaw in his plan.

Vivienne... oh, did she do the same thing with the enchanter? Did she inherently trust, just because that's what she would have done in the Circle? Had she somehow granted Vivienne the mental position of First Enchanter of the Inquisition, with Cullen the Knight-Commander?

Did that even matter? Herald of Andraste though she might be, was it even her place to question, anyways? No, she was _supposed_ to listen, to help them seal the Breach, find the one responsible for the explosion at the Conclave. She was supposed to help them return the world to order, and then she could have her life back, could return to the Circle and return to her _real_ mission in life - helping young mages learn to safely handle their gifts.

If that made her a recruit in Sera's eyes, then so be it. And if he thought of her that way as well...

Oh, but he did, didn't he? The Commander _did_ think of her as a recruit, or at least he treated her as one, when he watched her training with Lieutenant Davis, when he critiqued her moves and threw in just enough praise to keep her from getting too frustrated, when he stepped in to prematurely end a session, declaring that their time was up, that she needed to rest... when he caught her sneaking into Haven well past sun-down.

"Herald."

She froze, her expression morphing into one of a wince as she remained completely still, one foot in the air as she balanced on ball of her other foot - a classic sneaking pose. Blowing out a sigh, she relaxed her posture, turning around in the stables and locking eyes with the man who stood with his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the only recently-closed stall. She dipped her head out of respect. "Commander."

"I would have thought you'd be in bed by now; the sun should be rising fairly soon." Disapproval. She could hear it in his voice.

Biting her lip, she tried an innocent smile on for size. "And I... would have thought you'd be... well, standing vigil _elsewhere_."

It was dark, but she could've sworn she saw a twitch of those lips of his. "Funny thing about Horsemasters... they tend to notice when one of their charges goes missing. And when that charge happens to be _my_ horse..." He paused in his response long enough to extend a hand and stroke the nose of the still-sweaty mare, his expression softening as he looked over the creature, before his lips settled back into a thin line and his amber eyes shot her way again. "Well, let's just say Master Dennet has no qualms berating a man in front of his troops."

With the image of the blunt master of horses publicly chastising the Inquisition's Commander in mind, Evelyn couldn't help but open her mouth to apologize. The look he sent her when she glanced his way, however, had her snapping her mouth shut and dipping her head again.

"Explain."

"Well, Commander..." she started, her gaze darting up to look at the Fereldan Forder she hadn't realized belonged to her military advisor, "we only just got in from the Storm Coast this morning, you remember. My mount needed to rest."

Her uncharacteristic cheekiness seemed to amuse him, for he let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, giving his head a shake as he pushed away from the stall and stepped toward her. He stopped a few feet away, when the moonlight slipping in from the stable's make-shift windows hit his face, and she couldn't help but mentally curse when she noted his expression was once again anything but amused. "You shouldn't be out alone."

And there it was!

Scoffing, the redheaded woman turned on her heel and started down the walkway, headed toward the stable's archway. "Careful, Commander," she drawled as she went, an amused smile on her lips as she spoke, "your Templar training is showing."

"That's not what I meant!" he objected immediately, a bit louder than she had expected. And though she hadn't meant it as an insult, it was clear that was how he'd taken it. A gauntlet around her wrist stopped her before she could exit the stable, and she made a quick stop, spinning around and arching a brow of her own his way.

"Isn't it?" she countered. "Because it should be. I'm still a mage, after all, and being the Herald of Andraste doesn't change that. I _shouldn't_ be out alone."

"You shouldn't be _unprotected_," he corrected, gaze hard and unwavering. "Trained or not - you are the only one who can seal the rifts, the only one who can seal the Breach. I would tell you the same thing if you were a rogue or a warrior, but you're right: you _are_ a mage, and that only gives you more reason to bring backup wherever you go! What would you have done if a rebel had found you? If bandits had cornered you? Rogue Templars? You'd be dead!"

"And at least he wouldn't be alone!" Bitter words no match for the bitter smile she sent the Commander's way, Evelyn wasted no time turning on her heels and attempting to leave her advisor in her dust once again, but just like last time, the former Templar wouldn't let her leave.

"Who wouldn't be alone?" he asked, as he caught her wrist and spun her back around once more. He stepped forward, brow furrowed in concern as he looked down at her searchingly. "Herald, what were you doing tonight?"

She caught his gaze, emotions swimming in her eyes, but she didn't immediately respond. Instead, she only shook her head, raising her hands up in defeat. "It doesn't matter, and it won't happen again. I apologize, Commander, for stealing your mount and for leaving Haven unsupervised. It won't happen again; you have my word. So just... forget this ever happened, alright?" She turned to leave, but found the heavily-armored man blocking her path. "Commander, I would really like to get some rest, now, so if you'd be so kind...?"

"What happened?" His words were a whisper, those concerned amber eyes of his still searching hers. "Whatever it is... you can tell me. We need to know, so that we can protect you, protect the Inquisition."

"The Inquisition is safe," she dismissed. "Nothing happened and everything's fine. So if you would, I'd very much appreciate it if you allowed me to return to my quarters."

"With respect, Lady Trevelyan, you do not fool me. You're upset," he noted, "and you're angry."

"No, I can assure you-"

"I have seen you get bad news in the War Room, My Lady, and I have seen you reprimand a scout found... _neglecting_ her duty. You always carry yourself with the utmost professionalism. You do not joke, and you do not make statements out of anger."

"Perhaps you just don't know me all that well, Commander," she tried, lips pulling back into a wicked smirk, but he didn't seem to buy it.

"Or perhaps I do."

"Commander, I assure you, everything is fine; I am merely exhausted. If you wish to scold me, can we get it over with so that we can perhaps retire _before_ the sun rises?"

For a moment, he only stared back at her, looking as if he was debating arguing with her. Blowing out a sigh, he stepped away from her a few moments later, turned only for a moment as he retrieved something from the chest behind him. When he turned back toward her, he dropped a heavy, thick blanket in her arms, and strode back down the aisle, leaving her to follow after him in confusion.

He unlocked the door to his mare's stall, pulling it back open and entering without waiting for her to catch up. She shuffled her way into the stall somewhat awkwardly, using her foot to hook around the door and pull it so that the thing wasn't left wide open. Her attention once again on the leader of the Inquisition's forces, she watched as he ran a brush quickly over the horse's coat, little beads of sweat slicking off her sides as he did.

"It's cold," he informed her after a few moments of brushing his mount off, "and she's damp." Discarding the brush on one of the rails, he bent to the ground and picked up a handful of hay, only to then place it directly on the horse's back. He repeated the process again. "You leave her out here without a blanket and she'll freeze, but you put the blanket on while she's still damp, and that's no good, either," he explained, once more adding hay to her back, until he had a decent sized layer resting on her. "You need room for air to flow, so she can continue to dry off even with the blanket on. Help me with that."

At his gesture, she brought the blanket in her arms forward, shuffling her grip on it after he pulled part of it up out of her arms. Together, they carefully raised it up over the hay and put it down on the mare's back. He added some more hay to the sides as she set the latches that would keep the blanket in place. For a moment, she only stood back, watching as the Commander once again pressed a hand to the mare's nose, his other hand running down her neck again. There was a faint smile on his lips as he gave the creature an affectionate pat, looking back to Evelyn only after he'd stepped away and made it back to the door.

"If _you_ take her out, she's _your_ charge, Herald. I trust you will not leave her to freeze again?"

There was a reprimand in there somewhere, and she knew that he was by no means giving her permission to repeat her actions on another night, but the only thing she heard in his comment was the word _charge_. Her breath came out shaky, and as she latched the stall door behind them, she couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze away from the chestnut creature.

"It's Octavius," she admitted then, eyelids falling closed as she ducked her head.

"Your apprentice?" Coming from several feet behind her, his voice was hesitant. "Sister Leliana said that there was no word on the lad's location."

"Yes, well our Spymaster wasn't in Redcliffe to find the puzzle pieces. I heard whispers... He wasn't a rebellious boy."

There was a shuffling of armor that signaled the Commander's movement, and when she looked up, the blonde-haired man was leaning against a door one stall down, watching her with a soft expression. "But he was going to join the rebel mages?"

"No," she answered on a sigh, turning her head to look back at the horse again, "but he would have gone to talk Amarina out of joining them. The two were close."

The pained sigh the broke the silence wasn't hers. "I am sorry."

"I knew he would stop when he got near the refugee camp. He wouldn't attack a Templar - even a rogue one - and so the _second_ he saw the fighting in the Hinterlands... he would stop. He'd find a place to lay low, to wait. He'd _never_ raise his staff to anyone in the Order."

The man to her left said nothing, waiting patiently. She could feel his gaze on the side of her head, but she refused to look away from the horse that had carried her all the way to the Hinterlands and back.

"It was easy to find his hiding spot. One of the Sisters had seen him leave after trading for food. When i got there..." She couldn't help but trail off there, another shaky breath slipping in and out of her lungs. "There were cuts all over his hands and he was on his knees, leaning against the side of his make-shift tent, a wound right through his chest. I bet you _anything_ he was surrendering, trying to tell whatever bastard found him that he wasn't an apostate, wasn't a danger. That's what he'd do."

Turning, she sent a humorless, pain-filled smile in the man's direction, blinking closed her eyes when she felt the water swell within them. A moment later and her eyes were open again, tears no longer threatening to fall.

"They took vows! They promised to protect the innocent! They..."

"I know."

"I hate them! Seeing what they're capable of, it makes me _want_ to work with the rebel mages, to-"

"They do not represent the Order, My Lady," the man interrupted, eyes sincere as he stepped closer to her again. "I hate them too, for they forsake their vows and betray everything they have sworn to uphold. But they are Templars no longer, and you must understand-"

As if his words had suddenly doused the fire raging within her, the emotion immediately drained from her expression. Eyes hard, she spoke monotonously, "I have not reconsidered our decision to leave for Therinfal Redoubt, Commander. You need not worry; I will be prepared to ride on the morrow."

He stepped before her again as she attempted to leave, a hand raised to block her path, but not to grab her by the wrist. "That is not what I worry for, Herald," he informed her quietly. "You need-"

"I need to get some sleep, and then I need to focus on the task at hand," she interrupted. "I need to forget that any of this ever happened, and I need-"

"You need to grieve. You need to take some time, and-"

"We have no time for me to take, Commander," Evelyn interrupted once again, this time in a much softer manner. "The Lord Seeker-"

"The Lord Seeker can wait! You _cannot_ pretend that this didn't happen; you cannot pretend that this will not compromise you in battle."

Tilting her chin up just the slightest, green eyes narrowed warningly. "I thought we intended to seek the aid of the Templars, not battle them."

"You will not go in unprepared, My Lady Herald. I will not allow it. If that means we must postpone our meeting with the Lord Seeker, then so be it! You are not in any shape to-"

His argument was cut off as a blast of lightning erupted from her hand, crackling through the air and slamming into her military advisor's armor. She hadn't even intended to call it forth, hadn't given it the moment of consideration that might have warned him before she'd attacked, and so he was left unprotected from the assault, making a small noise of what she could only guess was surprise or pain.

"On the contrary, Commander, it appears I have never been in better shape to fight," she declared cooly, hand lowered back to her side. A part of her immediately regretted the misuse of her magic, but another part of her was simply too numb to care. Still, she didn't run off, waiting at least until he had straightened again... just to make sure he was fine.

That turned out to be a mistake, for when he did lift his head, his eyes locked onto her with a rage she hadn't expected him possible of. He didn't give her a warning, either, before he closed the difference between them and grabbed her by both of the shoulders, spinning her and slamming her into one of the stable walls. For the briefest of seconds, she thought he might strangle her. But he didn't move an inch, and somehow, she suddenly felt as if she was suffocating. The air around her suddenly seemed too thin and too heavy all at the same time, and she suddenly realized that she was absolutely freezing. Shivering and unable to do more than make soft, short gasps for air, she looked up at the former Templar with a mixture of confusion and fear.

"Never again!" came his gruff voice, fury still dripping from his every word. "I don't care how upset you are, you will _never_ use magic against me ever again. Is that clear?" At the weak nod she managed to give, he released her and stalked away, a hand raising to run through his hair.

Needing to understand what he had done to her, Evelyn allowed her head to fall back against the wall, reaching out in her mind to try and get a hold of her mana. She found it with ease, but the cold sensation only grew when she attempted to pull at it.

"I _silenced_ you," he informed her from where he stood several yards away, back to her. The outrage appeared to have left his voice, but she could still hear the anger there, even in his slow, quiet words. "You can't cast, so why don't you listen carefully, instead? I understand that you are upset. I understand that you are not thinking clearly. I will pretend this did not happen, Herald, and you will return to your quarters and you will rest. And tomorrow, you will take the day off. I will speak to Lady Montilyet and Lady Nightingale, and we will have your travel to Therinfal Redoubt pushed back. This is not up for negotiation. You and Davis are done training until I clear you to return. And you will _never_ be caught leaving Haven on your own again. Do you understand me?"

The _silence_ was beginning to wear off, her feeling of suffocation fading though she still remained colder than she had ever been. "Y-yes, Commander," she responded, the slight stutter only partially because of her chattering teeth.

Even from where she stood, she could see his shoulders tense up. "Dismissed." How he conveyed so much displeasure in two simple syllables, she would never know. She didn't stick around to ask.

Heading straight for her bed, Evelyn did exactly as she was told, though she knew her bed would be offering her no peace - not that night.

A while later she was still lying there on her back, staring up at the ceiling, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. A muffled rustle of metal sounding from outside was the only thing that broke her little trance, and she couldn't help but lean up just a bit, taking a quick peek out of the window and immediately finding the source of the noise. On the bench across the path sat the Commander, his elbows propped up on his knees as he stared down at the sword he held in his hand.

A vigil. Oh, he really _was_ a Templar, if he felt the need to stand guard outside the door of an upset mage, and she was his charge.

She pulled on her magic, focusing on the feeling of her mana flowing through her veins, and just as expected, the Templar's head snapped up and his gaze met hers. She dropped the hold on her magic immediately, keeping her eyes locked on his as she tilted her head gently to the side. He held her gaze for one exceptionally long moment, before slowly nodding his head.

Less than a second later, everything went black.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: This chapter is a bit of a filler, so consider yourself warned in advance. Starting in the next chapter, the main setting will finally be Skyhold, and the story should be able to more easily pick up from there. I just needed something to separate the last chapter from the move to Skyhold.**

CHAPTER THREE

The Templar thought of her as a disappointment.

It was easy to see, the way he now immediately looked away whenever she was present, undoubtedly still paying attention to her as he did any mage, but now unwilling to look at her as he did. That little fact hurt worse than any of his little blows to her ego ever had.

"Commander I-" she had tried to get out, wanting nothing more than to apologize the moment she had awaken from her blissfully dreamless slumber.

But he'd lifted his hand, quieting her before she'd even started. "I'm afraid I have no time to chat, Herald. There is much to do," he'd told her, moving from the post he'd been observing from, as if he actually did have something to attend to. "Should you have need of anything, I am sure one of my men can satisfy your curiosity."

She'd never flinched more at a dismissal.

He'd brushed her off similarly each subsequent time she'd attempted to speak with him, but the one time she'd attempted to speak with Lieutenant Davis - to repeat a message from Cassandra, not to ask him for a training session - that was the time that the Commander actually stayed put. And that was what told her he hadn't filled his men in on what had happened.

Of course, that didn't mean that their good old Spymaster didn't find out.

"What were you thinking?" the Orlesian had asked when she'd cornered Evelyn in one of the Chantry's empty rooms. "How could you?"

"I was thinking that my apprentice had just died," had been her weak answer. "I _wasn't_ thinking."

For a second, there had been a softness in the woman's expression as she let out a quiet sigh. "I know, and I am so sorry to hear that," she'd said, sounding completely sincere as she spoke. "But to attack our Commander like that..."

"I didn't even realize I was doing it, Leliana. It wasn't a dangerous spell, but I completely understand why he is furious. I shouldn't have disrespected him."

"No, you don't understand, Evelyn," the bard had corrected, the usual lilt of her accent currently absent. "Cullen, he... he has been through a lot."

"He was at the center of it all in Kirkwall, I know."

"No," Leliana had repeated, "you _don't_. You know he was stationed at Kinloch Hold during the Blight? I was with the Hero of Fereldan when she sought the aid of the Circle Tower. What we saw... I cannot repeat. Blood magic, abominations... it was terrible." A moment's pause, and she'd given her head a small shake. "Cullen was there, Evelyn. He was there, in the middle of it all. He was the only one who did not break."

Her mind had reeled, her brow furrowing as she had leaned closer to the other woman, a look of horror in her expression. "Are you saying...?"

"I am."

And suddenly, Evelyn realized that the rock bottom she'd thought she'd already hit? It wasn't really the bottom after all. First, she'd failed to save her apprentice. Then, she'd used magic on a man who had been tortured with it. Oh, she was on a roll.

She'd gone to Therinfal Redoubt a few days later, bringing Cassandra, Warden Blackwall, and Vivienne with her. Things hadn't gone as planned, and filling her advisors in upon returning to Haven ended up being an adventure in of itself.

"The Lord Seeker asked you to raise these flags before meeting with him? What was his purpose? Did he say anything about your choices?" Leliana interrupted the Herald's recounting, her brows slightly furrowed as she appeared to think the entire situation through.

"I'm not sure," the mage answered with a shake of her head. "He made no obvious comments."

"Though," Cassandra interjected, looking up from the War Table as if the markers had been a portal into her own memories, "there was something about him being upset by your showing up with purpose. The Knight-Captain claimed that you ruined the Lord Seeker's plan by arriving with purpose, by sowing dissent. At the time, I assumed he meant our goal of sealing the Breach, but perhaps the your choices with the banners factored in."

"If I might ask..." The former Templar looked curious but tentative as he asked the question, his gaze resting solely the Herald as he spoke, "in what order did you complete the ritual?"

"Chantry, Templars, People," she recited with ease, needing no time to recall her decisions.

"Ah, diplomatic but not flattering," Josephine observed with a decided nod and a wide smile. "Very well played, Herald."

The praise was a surprise, but Evelyn wasn't sure whether or not it was a welcome one. Attention shifting to the ambassador, she gave a subtle shake of her head. "I answered honestly," she explained, "though perhaps I shouldn't have, considering I was being watched by an envy demon."

She could still feel their Commander's gaze on her, and she had no doubt that he was analyzing her choices, likely in the same way that the Templars themselves had. The whole thing probably had more significance to him than the others because of his background, but now was not the time to dwell on the most insignificant of the trip's events.

She moved on to the point when she met the Lord Seeker.

"Allow me a moment to clarify," her military advisor interrupted at one point, his arms crossing over his chest as he looked down at her. "In this... vision you were having, you saw a demon slitting my throat?"

"I saw a demon pretending to be Leliana, slitting the throat of a manifestation of that same demon... that happened to look like you," was the immediate correction that fell from her lips. "As a mage, I immediately knew the situation was not as it seemed," she explained, "I recognized the manifestations as such."

Of course, that hadn't stopped her from making a noise of surprise when that blade had been pressed to Not-Cullen's throat, but that wasn't a detail she was going to share. She'd already stolen the man's horse and used her magic against him; she'd wished the demon that had been invading her mind had chosen someone _else_ to kill in her mind. Still, she'd gotten ahold of herself by the time the blade had cut across his throat, her own expression bored and neutral as the fake body had slid to the ground. The glint in the demon's eye, however, told her that she hadn't been quite quick enough.

"Of course," the Commander allowed. "But it was only _my_ throat? What could the demon have hoped to gain from that?"

"It wanted me to watch," Evelyn answered. "It wanted to know how I would react to situations, because it wanted to _become_ me. So I gave it nothing; I refused to react." She'd keep the original gasp to herself; they didn't need to know about that small error. "I imagine Josephine would have been next, had I given the demon what it wanted."

Eyes flickering over the Commander's still posture, she wondered absently if he thought a part of her had wanted him dead. But no, he surely knew better than that...

"If it makes you feel better," she offered anyways, "the demon took your shape a moment later, so the manifestation of you was no longer dead. And then it - as you - stabbed a manifestation of _me_ in the back. So, I think we're even."

"Pardon?" It was Josephine's reaction, her brow creased in obvious confusion as she clearly struggled to follow the confusion that had been Evelyn's mind.

The Commander gave a quick, soft chuckle, though whether it was at the ambassador's confusion or at her own comment, Evelyn couldn't be sure. "What happened next, Herald?"

She continued her tale, going through the events as logically as possible, despite the fact that everything that had happened had been completely _illogical_.

"You did nothing? You didn't defend yourself against the accusations?" At the revelation, the Seeker looked somewhat surprised, her eyes narrowed just a bit as she turned to the Herald.

"It wanted a reaction from her," the former Templar answered before Evelyn could say anything in her own defense. "When a demon is tormenting you, you do not give it what it wants."

He spoke from experience. She could hear it in the finality of his words; it was something she would have picked up on even if the Orlesian bard hadn't informed her of his past. As it was, his statement only reminded her of how absolutely stupid she had been to cast a spell at him, how cruel it was for her to have done so. She blinked her eyes closed, blowing out a breath.

"You could have lied to it, faked a different response. You could have figured out what its plan was."

"You're right," the Herald admitted, opening her eyes and meeting the Seeker's gaze. "I could have. Unfortunately, I do not have any patience for demons, or for their games. So I walked through every scene it gave me, ignored everything around me, and just tried to find a way out. That is the protocol we train our apprentices to follow, Seeker."

"I apologize; I do not mean to sound as if I disapprove," she replied, accent heavy in her words. "I just wish we knew more about this... thing. And this Elder One it spoke of."

"I understand. Envy _is_ a rare demon," Evelyn attempted to explain, "but is not unknown. As enchanters, we are all required to study envy demons before we can take apprentices. This is the first I have ever encountered, but I knew what it was. There was nothing more I could have learned of it through playing its game."

"But the Templars did not even know-"

"Ser Barris made it clear that it was only the less experienced who did not know enough about Envy. I am under the impression that veterans were and are prepared to handle such rare demons."

"It is a hard demon to train against, because we see them so rarely," the former Knight-Captain elaborated. "I have seen only one in my career, and heard of only two others, so it does not surprise me to hear Ser Barris and the others were unprepared. I will consult with him on the matter at a later date, and we will develop a better method of preparing the Templars and our own soldiers for rare demons."

A quiet scoff from the corner of the table indicated the Spymaster's continued disapproval. "I still think it would be for the best for us to disband the Order, to bring them under our banner instead. _Then _our Commander could better-"

"Absolutely not!" the man immediately objected, turning sharply to fully face the bard. "The Templars are needed; they do not deserve-"

"They do not deserve the trust that the Herald afforded them, Commander," the Seeker interrupted. "You were not there; you did not see what they had done, the crimes they had committed. They-"

"Not this again!" Evelyn interjected, trying to end the argument before it truly began again. When she had first arrived, it had taken long enough to settle the War Council's disagreements; she did not look forward to trying to smooth things over again. "I afforded the Templars a chance to rebuild, rather than punishing them for their superiors' crimes. The last I checked, we did not fault a man for doing what he honestly believed to be the right thing. Who was it that hired that Quartermaster of ours? Did she not follow the the man who betrayed Ferelden's king?" At the way the Seeker's head ducked down, the Herald took a breath, calming herself as well. "Besides, I was under the impression that the Inquisition was founded _only_ to seal the Breach and bring Most Holy's murderer to justice. I wasn't aware we intended to forcibly conscript soldiers and then leave the world with no one to guard against magic in the future."

It was silent for a moment, before the ambassador cleared her throat, jotting something down on that board she always carried. "Besides," Josephine declared, "it is in the past. It would not look good upon us to rescind the offer of an alliance now, not after it has already been extended and accepted. Let us move on, yes?"

She could have kissed Josephine.

As it was, she just nodded her thanks, and the meeting moved on from there, quickly covering the brief consultation with Ser Barris, and the fighting leading up to the battle with the envy demon.

"These... what did you call them? ..._Red_ Templars? You fought them?" The Commander's gaze shifted between the Seeker and the Herald.

"We weren't given a choice," Evelyn had responded, only to have her words followed by a loud Orlesian scoff.

"She means, we had no choice after she - ridiculously - attempted to _talk_ to the crazed men who were attacking us."

"Cassandra!" the mage had hissed in objection. "I shouted one warning, offering them a chance to put down their weapons. I-"

"The _leaders_ of the Templars, the ones who you acknowledge were responsible for the corruption within the Order... you offered them the same ridiculous freedoms you granted the rest of the Order? Are you mad?"

Oh, the Spymaster was still pissed about the whole of the situation, that much was clear to Evelyn, even as she took a deep breath and tried her best not to rise to the bait. "No, My Lady," she contradicted slowly, carefully. "I offered them a chance to stop needless bloodshed, nothing more. They would have been held responsible for their crimes."

"If I might redirect," the Commander interrupted, his hand cutting through the air before tapping down on the table in order to call attention back to him. "I would be interested to know how the battle itself went."

"The Herald fought well," the Seeker responded, while the Spymaster and the Herald remained in a locked gaze. "It seems you were the better choice to control her training."

"The battle went well, then?"

Evelyn's gaze finally broke away from the other redhead's, flickering up to meet the contemplative one of the Inquisition's military advisor. "We have Ser Barris and the others of the Order to thank for that, Commander. They kept themselves in front of Vivienne and I, blocking us from the Red Templars. Some of them suffered injuries, but neither of us were even dealt a scratch." Pointedly, her focus shifted back to the Spymaster. "They will be a welcome ally to the Inquisition, My Lady. They will serve, even though they were not forcibly conscripted."

The topic quickly shifted back to the envy demon itself - a topic which, luckily, was far less controversial. That did not make it any less annoyingly tedious, however.

By the time the debriefing was finally over and all questions had been satisfactorily answered, Evelyn wanted nothing more than to immediately fall into her bed and sleep for the next week. A guantletted hand caught her as she tried to realize that dream, however, forcing her to pause in her path out of the room, an eyebrow pointedly raised in the Commander's direction. She was too tired to beg forgiveness this time.

"Herald," he started, voice low. "Thank you, for..."

She thought she understood. "Of course."

He released her almost immediately, straightening and stepping out of the way to allow her to pass. Of course, when she started to, he interrupted her departure for the second time. "Oh, and Herald? I imagine Lieutenant Davis would be happy to take a break from reorganizing and preparing for our new Templar allies... should you wish to give him a reason."

She could've sworn she saw the faintest of smiles as he strode past her.


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N: Oh, I am ****_so_**** very sorry for my disappearance! I have been away on holiday, and I somehow managed to forget to pack my laptop. Rest assured, I've already beaten myself up over the mistake countless times. (As will my thesis advisor, when he learns that I made no progress over break.) Anyways, I know that I owe responses to many of your reviews; I will get to those immediately, but I figured I had made you wait long enough for an update!**

CHAPTER FOUR

She no longer even pretended to know what the Templar thought of her.

He'd allowed her to resume training with Lieutenant Davis, and had even resumed his usual habit of wandering over during their training, observing and tossing in suggestions from time to time. He'd even remained where he was, offering no lame excuse to remove himself from a conversation, when she'd approached to fill him in on one of Leliana's reports. From his actions, she would have guessed that he'd forgiven her.

Yet when she'd attempted once more to apologize, he'd brushed her off again, claiming to be needed elsewhere and retreating before she had a chance to get the words out of her mouth. Clearly, he hadn't completely gotten over it.

But she hadn't had time to dwell on it. Having decided that she'd wasted enough time attempting to reconcile her differences with the Inquisition's military leader, Evelyn had turned her attention back to the task at hand: sealing the Breach. After all, once they had the thing sealed, they were one step closer to completing the Inquisition's goals, and they were one step closer to getting everything back to normal... to her returning to the Circle and the life she actually understood. Of course, that still left finding the Divine's murderer on their to-do list, but that was decidedly a matter for another day.

Two nights after the Templars arrived, the Inquisition had made its way to the Conclave ruins, and with the help of their newest allies, the Herald had been able to seal the Breach. The world was safe.

Or so it had seemed, in those few hours following the Breach's closure, when all of the inhabitants of Haven - civilians and Inquisition alike - had banded together to celebrate. The few mages that had joined the Inquisition had even set aside their differences for the first time since the happenings of Therinfal Redoubt, and had been seen drinking and laughing along with some of the celebrating Templars. Evelyn had even thought she'd seen Varric and Cassandra sharing a pint in the Tavern, for once appearing to actually tolerate the other's company.

Of course, the peace hadn't lasted long, what with the Elder One appearing with an army of mages and a blighted _Archdemon_!

He'd been unhappy with her when, locked in the Chantry with the remaining villagers, she'd told him to lead the others to safety, told him she'd distract the beast outside and set off the avalanche herself. He'd been unhappy with her when she'd simply turned away from him at his question of how she'd intended to escape, and he'd been unhappy with her when she'd just as quickly turned back around, looking him in the eyes and telling him her decision was final, that her command for him to lead the others to safety was not a suggestion, but an order. He'd been absolutely _livid_ with her when she'd then issued orders to all of her companions, insisting that they would _all_ be remaining with the villagers of Haven, that none would accompany her. Oh, to say the least, he'd been unhappy with her.

But he hadn't argued with her, hadn't debated the topic for a second. He'd simply nodded his head, conveying his displeasure only with his eyes, before turning and issuing orders of his own. He'd come back to her when some of the men were already scrambling around, and after he'd given her a few instructions of his own, he'd paused, the displeasure gone as he lifted an arm and slapped it across his chest in salute. She simply held his gaze, a faint smile on her lips as she dipped her head.

She'd gone, then, running from the building to what had been her certain death. It had been a miracle that she had managed to make it to the trebuchet alone... she wasn't quite sure what to call it when she'd actually managed to _survive_.

Impossible. A surprise. That's what Cullen had called it.

As she'd trudged through the snow, one arm raised to shield her eyes from the onslaught of frozen wind and the other allowing the mark on her hand to light a few feet ahead of her, his was the first voice she'd heard as she'd fallen to her knees, unable to walk any further.

"There! It's her!" he'd called out, though for a moment she had been certain she'd imagined it. It was only after Cassandra's answering thanking of the Maker, only after the two familiar faces had appeared in her blurry vision, that she'd allowed herself to believe she'd actually managed to find them.

Strong arms had picked her up when she'd only collapsed in relief, and she hadn't needed to open her eyes to know whose they were. She'd been able to feel the tiny pull on the Veil as the man carrying her had done an instinctual cleansing of the area. She'd imagined he was satisfied after that, she'd imagined that meant that she wasn't in fact a demon.

"You shouldn't be alive," he'd told her softly as he carried her toward the camp, her face tucked somewhat awkwardly in the feathery material adorning his shoulder. "It's not possible. But here you are, Herald. Here you are." At that point, she'd no longer been certain he was actually talking to her, and not himself. She'd no longer been certain of anything, actually, for she'd drifted out of consciousness for a moment and only awoken when he'd set her down in the make-shift infirmary. "-should've known you would surprise us after all." A gauntleted hand had pressed her forehead back into the pillow when she'd attempted to rise, when she'd struggled to look around and place the different voices she'd been able to hear around her. "_Rest_, Herald," he'd commanded.

And she had. In hindsight, she'd been sure he had had everything to do with that, for she knew that such a deep and dreamless sleep was only ever the result of one impressive smiting. An impressive smiting that he had wanted to repeat; she'd been able to tell after she'd awoken, after she'd risen to speak to Solas. The Commander had eyed her with a concerned expression, his gaze trailing to the infirmary and back. Oh, he'd doubted her condition and he'd wanted her to rest, that much was certain. She had been almost surprised when he'd let her lead the group to the North, when he hadn't so much as fixed a disapproving look in her direction at the suggestion.

She should have known something had been off, right then and there. Then, perhaps, she might have been a little less put-on-the-spot when they'd actually _reached_ Skyhold... Because, really! A _mage_ as _Inquisitor_? They'd all been mad - she'd been absolutely sure of it. She _still_ thought they were mad.

"Inquisitor?" a tentative voice from behind her called out, the title seeming to mock her very thoughts for a moment. The second call was louder: "Herald?"

From where she stood, somewhat precariously placed on the slope of a damaged rooftop along one of the battlements, the newly-crowned Inquisitor made a noise of acknowledgement, but refused to turn away. "A moment, please, Commander," she called out, shifting her footing just a fraction of an inch. When she felt fully balanced, she extended her left arm, her hand opening fully as a burst of energy shot forward.

She had to focus carefully as she _energized_ the area, lifting some of the debris into the air and then allowing some pieces to fly back to where they belonged, bridging some of the gaps in the roofing. A dozen or so nails straightened and shot forward to pin the newly-rebuilt roof in place, while a few unsalvageable pieces remained floating in the air. That is, until she attempted to move the same pieces to the pile of rubble that rested a story beneath her. Without warning, all of the hovering pieces fell from the air, clamoring as they hit the roof and slid down the steep slope, crashing to the ground beneath it.

"Andraste's _flaming_ a-" she started to curse, only to quickly cut herself off at the noise of strangled surprise that came from behind her. Clearing her throat, she shifted her stance and tossed a glance over her shoulder, sheepishly eyeing the red-faced former Templar and the scandalized Sister who stood beside him. He posture immediately straightened. "My apologies, Sister," she offered, before attempting to immediately put her slip-up behind her. "Was there something you needed, Commander?"

"I, uh-" came the beginning of his not-so-verbose response, a gauntletted hand raising to rub over the back of his neck. He turned toward the Sister for a second, saying something at a hushed volume that had the woman retreating with only _one_ distasteful look sent over her shoulder. When the woman was out of earshot, Cullen returned the Herald's gaze. "Some of our men have expressed some... _concern_ over your... _actions_."

_Men?_ One quick glance at the door that the Sister had just retreated through had the mage very much doubting the Commander's carefully-chosen words. _Actions?_ She blew out a breath, turning fully so that she was actually facing him then, though the shift required her to lean forward to offset the change in her balance. "Have you been sent to request I refrain from using magic, Commander?"

"I- _No_, My Lady Herald," he objected just as quickly, before making a small noise of surprise when the wind changed and Evelyn was forced to step backwards a bit, putting her even closer to a hole in the unstable roofing. "Maker's breath! Would you join me on solid ground for a moment?"

"I'm perfectly safe right-" she attempted to point out, only to be cut off as a particularly harsh gust of wind slammed into her. She lost her balance only for a second, throwing out her hands as a makeshift counterweight and dropping down quickly to her knees. She was on her feet again a second later. "Alright, yeah; I'm coming up," came her declaration, already climbing up the steep slope towards the battlement.

She reached up to grab the offered arm when she made it to the stone wall, using the Commander's support to pull herself up onto the stable surface. She blew out a breath. And, from the rise and fall of the warrior's shoulders, it appeared Cullen felt the same relief.

Raising a hand to brush a few stray hairs from her vision, the Herald arched a brow. "You were saying?"

It took the man a moment to remember. "Right. As I was saying, it was not your magic that was of concern, My Lady, but your... _proximity_ to the edge of the roof."

This time, both eyebrows rose. She took a moment to collect her thoughts. "So... it's all fine watching the Herald fight a blighted _Archdemon_, but Maker be damned if she tries to fix a _roof_?"

The poor advisor only appeared even more uncomfortable. "I do not believe anyone wished to imply you were not capable, My Lady. I believe they were only concerned for your safety."

"My safety?" The redheaded woman let out a loud, heartfelt laugh. "I fight demons, rogue templars, and apostates on practically a daily basis. I get sent in to clear out bandits that our own soldiers cannot handle!"

"But you do none of those things in front of _them_," the Commander pointed out. "Lady Nightingale and I received _six_ different reports from individuals concerned for your wellbeing. It would appear you have experienced several close calls?"

Her lips pursed at the information, the woman rather unhappy to learn that her little missteps had apparently been noticed. Honestly, was she the only one actually working on something? Was everyone else just standing around and _watching_? Somewhat stiffly, she answered the question his eyes asked with a curt nod. "Were it not for the wind-"

"I am certain our people would be more at ease," came the confirmation. "But so long as the winds _are_ problematic, Herald...?"

She let out a sigh. "What would you have of me, Commander? I cannot sit idle while there is so much work to be done."

There was a soft smile on his lips as he raised an arm in gesture. "There is much to discuss in the War Room, My Lady. I would ask that you join us, until the winds die down."

And though she still so desperately wanted nothing to do with the decisions that undoubtedly now fell to her, as the new leader of this Inquisition, she could find no room to argue. "Of course," she responded politely, turning to walk with the man after a last, irritated glance in the still-incomplete roof's direction.

He seemed to catch her train of thought. "Not every mage has the focus required to make such repairs, you know. The work you have done-"

"Is incomplete," she interrupted, "and takes more effort than it should... as you yourself witnessed."

"And here I was about to call it impressive."

Evelyn's eyes widened a fraction as her attention snapped to the man, surprised not by the compliment but by the hint of a playful sass beneath his usually serious tone. A little wry smile played over her lips, but she knew better than to call him out on it; one teasing word and he'd never let the slip happen again, she was sure. "Oh, if you were looking for _impressive_, you should have seen Octavius," she said instead, the smile softening a bit at the memory. "He was a natural; given a few years, he could have rivaled even the First Enchanter."

There was caution in the military advisor's eyes as he looked back to her. She didn't blame him.

"Of course, I'm only talking _specifically_ about energizing magic," she added to fill the silence. "He struggled a good deal when it came to spirit and winter magic - the safest two to struggle with, I imagine."

"I would be inclined to agree," came the simple response. "In all my years as a Templar, the most dangerous apprentices I've encountered were those who could not control their inferno magic."

She hummed out an agreement. "You'd be surprised, though, the damage that can be caused from accidentally calling forth a blizzard instead of freezing the practice glass of water." Laughter bubbled up from her at the memory, her hands gesturing in front of her excitably. "One second, we're standing in a warm library, trying to ignore the sound of the Chantry Sister instructing a handful of the youngest apprentices, and the next, the entire room is white and absolutely _freezing_! The blast was so cold that the poor Templar who had been supervising found his armor frozen solid! I had to rush to his side and counter the ice with a low-grade fire spell."

The former Templar's amusement shifted to something of surprise. Or was it curiosity? Disapproval? She couldn't be sure. "You used a fire spell against a Templar?"

"Not _against_," she corrected: "_on_. With full consent, might I add. The lad was young, just recently having taken up full Templar duties; he panicked rather than cleansed the area." Sensing that her explanation had calmed her companion a bit, the mage continued, "In any case, we got his helmet off and he just looked up at Octavius with this dazed look. 'Maker! They should use you in our training!'" She was laughing again, too amused to continue her tale.

This time, there was a hint of a smile on the Commander's lips. "That's it?"

"That's it," came the amused confirmation. "I helped Ser Joran to his feet and calmed the blizzard myself. I let the snow stay, though, changing it just a bit so that it wasn't so bitter cold. Octavius and the other apprentices _loved_ it."

"I imagine the Chantry Sister did not approve."

She sent a smile his way, slipping through the door he held open for her. "On the contrary, she joined in. She wasn't nearly as engaged as the children were, of course, but still. Oh, you should have seen the faces on the Templars who made their way into the room a moment later! They came running up the stairs, undoubtedly having sensed the magic at work, and just skidded to a halt by the doorway. Oh, their faces!"

"What happened, then?" came the gentle prodding, a full smile on the man's lips this time.

"One of them went to cleanse the area, but the Knight-Commander stopped him with a simple raise of his hand. 'Children require an opportunity to _be_ children,' he told his men. They stayed guard for half the morning, watching as a snowball fight between fifteen apprentices grew into a match that pitted apprentices and recently harrowed mages against enchanters. I don't think I've ever heard more laughter."

"You enjoyed your time at the Circle." It was an observation, not a question, but there was a clear question implied within the observation.

Evelyn turned her head, considerably surprise in her expression. "Have we not spoken of this before?" she asked. "I feel as if I've had this discussion... or _argument_... with everyone. Yes, I very much enjoyed my time at the Circle; I miss it dearly. I will never understand the rash objections of my fellow mages. The Circle was never a _cage_, after all, but a safe haven of sorts... and - _Maker!_ - does that phrase sound wrong now!"

There was a solemn dip of a curly head that answered her commentary.

"The Circle was a place to study magic, to be surrounded by people who could understand you, to be safe from the fear of ignorant people and from the dangers within. It was a _gift_, to those of us who had our eyes open. But to those too arrogant and greedy to-" she cut herself off, raising a hand. "Forgive me, Commander; it is now _I_ who is lecturing."

There was another hint of a smile on Cullen's lips as he held open the door beside Josephine's empty desk, amusement dancing in those golden eyes of his. "If you have one prepared..."

Oh, the redheaded mage threw her head back in laughter at _that_ reference, before regaining control of herself and fixing a warm, genuine smile on her lips. "Another time," she promised, quoting his words just as easily as he'd quoted hers. The smile died away as they walked the long hallway that led to the War Room. "I never thanked you for all you did after Haven, for finding me and bringing me safely back to camp."

His hand paused at the final door's handle, his expression a mixture of sincerity and confusion. "You never needed to."

And, with that, he pulled open the last door, revealing the two other advisors who were already gathered around the table.

"Ah, the Inquisitor!" came a heavily accented Antivan voice. "Glad to see you yet live. Now, we have many things to discuss, and I have prepared a list. Firstly..."


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N: Sorry, guys! Thesis and law school applications have been eating my time. I haven't given up on the story though, I promise! (: And a great big shout out to everyone who has been reviewing! Seeing all of your comments inspires me to update! (And getting emails telling me about reviews kicks my ass into gear when I realize I've been taking too long!)**

CHAPTER FIVE

The Templar trusted her.

She was certain of this. He might not trust her _completely_, but then, did anyone ever trust anyone so completely? Regardless, he trusted her enough, and that was what mattered.

Vivienne had argued that the trust stemmed from her new ranking of Inquisitor.

"Inquisitor!" the woman had all but exclaimed when Evelyn had stopped in to check on the courtier's new base. The elegantly dressed woman had risen to her feet, stepping forward with outstretched arms, hands eventually landing on the redhead's shoulders. "Oh, that crown does look good on you, Darling, doesn't it?"

The inquisitor had worn no crown, but her noble background had allowed her to see the figurative nature of the comment with ease: her _title_ looked good on her. Having known better than to outright contradict Vivienne, Evelyn had simply smiled politely in response. "It is not a light burden."

"The finest jewels often weigh the most," had been the courtier's easy response as her hands retreated to her sides. She returned to her seat, gesturing to the one across from her. "You wear it well, My Dear. Truly. I daresay you wear it better than even _I_ could."

The Herald had taken the offered seat, crossing her legs before her as she'd eyed the slightly older woman. "Oh, now you're just flattering me, Lady Vivienne," she accused almost playfully, a wry little grin on her face.

But the courtier had appeared prepared for the comment. "Not at all, Darling!" she'd countered quickly. "If i intended to merely flatter you, I would have told you that you could wear _my_ title better than I. As it is, My Dear, I fear you are ill-suited for the Court, but well-suited for Inquisitor."

The little bit of a bite that had accompanied the enchanter's words had Evelyn relaxing just the slightest bit. The compliment hadn't been accompanied by some extravagant request, but she'd still doubted that the words weren't mere flattery. It would be in the enchanter's best interest, after all, to keep the Herald of Andraste and the leader of the Inquisition flattered. Evelyn had always been aware of that fact, but she'd never allowed herself to get caught up in it. "Well, thank you, Lady Vivienne. I am pleased you think so."

For a moment, the elegantly dressed woman had only sat back in her seat with a look of consideration on her face. "You do not believe me," she'd deduced a minute later, giving her tongue a disapproving click. "I assure you, I'm being quite truthful, Darling. Have you appreciated your reflection lately? Surely you've noticed the changes!"

She'd been certain she'd regret asking. "And which changes are we speaking of?"

"For starters, My Dear, you now carry yourself with _far_ more confidence. You stand taller and do not bow your head _nearly_ as often as before. I would have guessed you were pleased by the appointment, but I am now convinced you are merely rising to the occasion. I have seen you with your advisors, after all." The courtier wore a knowing look.

Her brow had furrowed. "I'm certain I have no idea what you are speaking of, Lady Vivienne." And she didn't; she truly couldn't follow the elder mage's train of thought.

"Why, of _course_ you do, My Dear! You simply _must_ have noticed the difference. I remember Haven, Darling, and back there, you _never_ would have spent an afternoon laughing and charming nobles with our dear Josephine, or spent even a moment more than necessary chatting with our Commander."

"I spoke with everyone at Haven, I assure you."

"Of course!" had been the quick confirmation. "But you do not merely _speak_ with everyone now. Now, you _blend_. It is a considerable skill, one I am certain your own background has contributed to, but it is the _title_ that has truly brought forth the ability. Why, you're doing it right now, Darling, are you not? Oh, now do not contort your face like that, My Dear. I quite approve."

For a moment, the Herald had been able to do no more than fix a pleasant smile on her face, unable to come up with an appropriate response to the conversation. "I am merely more comfortable with everyone because I know them better, My Lady."

Vivienne'd hummed out a noncommittal response. "There is more to it than _that_, I am certain. With respect to your advisors, I assume your new ranking puts them more at ease, for they have a clearer understanding of how to interact with them. Where once you were a prisoner-turned-prophet with an undefined role in the Inquisition, you are now their superior. I imagine that sets them ease."

It had been a contradictory statement that shouldn't have made any sense, but Evelyn had understood it perfectly, and she had been certain any traditionally-minded Circle mage would have understood it, as well. The unknown and undefined were uncomfortable, but the known and defined were _familiar_. Had that not been what had originally put her at ease around the Commander, after all?

"And with _them_ at ease, My Dear, it only makes sense for _you_ to be at ease, as well. The rest of your inner circle, I am certain, respects your title but remembers more your refusal to bring any along with you, when you went to stand against this Elder One. They see you as _one of them_, and your newfound confidence allows them to continue to see you that way. That, Darling, is where you excel where I could not; I haven't the patience nor _manner _required to play the role required to so befriend the likes of that _Sera_ or _Blackwall_, for instance."

The Herald had only hummed a little response of her own, still not completely convinced the praise was truly complimentary. "I'm surprised you find that ability _useful_, Lady Vivienne."

"Oh, Darling," the woman had laughed in response, "_I_ don't. But I can recognize its use to _you_, to the Inquisition. After all, My Dear, the Inquisition needs all the allies you can give it." There was a pause as the Orlesian enchanter looked out the window, seeming to consider something of importance. "My Dear, I'm afraid I must ask you a favor."

The tone of the question had immediately sobered the Inquisitor. "Anything," she promised.

"The Commander, as you know, is no longer a part of the Order, but he commands a great deal of the Order's respect. So much so, that I fear without a leader of their own, many will follow in his footsteps and leave." She'd turned her gaze back from the window as she spoke, a solemn expression on her face. "I know you would also like to see the Circles restored, so I know that I do not have to convince you of the importance of keeping the Order intact and motivated."

"Of course you don't," had been the redhead's quick confirmation, before she'd drawn in a careful breath. "I share your sentiments, Lady Vivienne, but I _will_ _not_ ask the Commander to rejoin the Templar Order against his wishes. He may be tied to them in terms of his addiction, but I will not force any more chains on him."

"Oh, _no_, Darling! I would never suggest something so absolutely _dreadful_!" the courtier had objected, appearing almost offended at the suggestion. "I was merely hoping you would speak with him about potentially getting a new Lord Seeker appointed."

A delicate red brow had arched, a slow smile spreading over her lips. "Ser Barris?"

Her immediate answer had been a brow arched in return. "Well, that _would_ be my choice."

It wasn't a bad idea, and truthfully, the Inquisitor hadn't been entirely sure how she hadn't thought of it on her own. Surely their military advisor himself had been considering the motion, no? Or even their ambassador? _Someone_ should have been on top of this matter. "You could make the suggestion yourself, Vivienne," she'd pointed out regardless, interested in her companion's motivations.

Still, the courtier had only sent an expression of disapproval. "The Commander may be more tolerant toward mages, My Dear, but _you_ are the only one he trusts."

Though the Herald had hummed out a noncommittal response before dipping out of the conversation, promise made, she hadn't been sure she agreed with the enchanter's final statement. She'd been able to very easily think of another mage their Commander trusted, after all - a mage he seemed to have quite the history with.

She had been thinking, of course, of Marian Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.

Oh, the woman was an absolute spitfire - Evelyn had learned _that_ only moments after Varric had been kind enough to suddenly introduce the friend Cassandra had spent months searching for - but she was a spitfire who very clearly had the Commander's trust. Apostate or not, the two were obviously on good terms, for every time in the past week that Evelyn had gone to hand off a report to Cullen, Hawke had been in his office, chatting away like the old friends they clearly were. And he seemed at ease around her, more comfortable than Evelyn was used to seeing him.

That didn't mean she believed Hawke's claim to have acquired the Commander's approval for her latest 'training exercise'.

"Well, if you can't trust the word of a local _Champion_... then who _can_ you trust?" the apostate complained, drawing in a deep breath and then huffing out a sigh.

"My advisors," Evelyn returned easily, "when they speak or report _directly _to me."

"Are you suggesting I would _lie_, Your Worship? Perish the thought!"

"Need I remind you who your best friend is?"

The former Champion made a noise of agreement, dropping her argument rather quickly. "Let's look at it this way, then: _you're_ the Inquisitor; it's _your_ approval that matters."

Lips twitching in amusement, the redhead let out a little snort. "I'll take that as confirmation that this... _exercise_ of yours was not approved."

"I never asked," Hawke contradicted with a twitch of her own lips. "Maker, Trevelyan! I've been cooped up in this fortress of yours for two _weeks_, now. I know you've been running around non-stop, and I know we'll go and hunt down my warden friend as soon as you have the time... but _Andraste's ass_, it's _boring_ here!"

"Then go and grab a drink with Sera; I'm sure you'd both get along wonderfully. But in the mean time, I hardly think your boredom is reason enough-"

"Don't you need your men actually trained to fight this massive mage army they're going to be facing?"

It was a fair point, and Evelyn couldn't immediately dismiss it. Sighing, she sent a tired look in the black-haired mage's direction. "And you said that Ser Barris is onboard with this plan?"

The apostate was already grinning. "You can ask him yourself. Come on." And with that, the woman leapt from the battlements, sliding down a roof and landing safely on her feet below.

The Inquisitor let out a breath, debating her options for a moment before just giving in and following suit. Her theatrics would be over soon enough that there wouldn't be time for any worried Chantry Sisters to run off and complain to one of her advisors. Still, she had to work on this whole being-influenced-by-Hawke thing. Champion of Kirkwall or not, she wasn't sure the woman was truly a great role model.

"You've got a good group here, you know," Hawke commented as the pair of mages made their way toward Skyhold's main gate. Recruits and messengers scurried past them, the majority not even looking up as they passed. A few of them, however, glanced up and seemed almost dazed when they recognized Kirkwall's Champion. Varric might have been on to something, suggesting that it would have been better for Hawke to remain more... inconspicuous.

"I'm surprised you think so."

The comment earned a loud laugh from the visiting mage. "Because of your allies? You do know that I stood _with_ the Order during the Rebellion, don't you? I mean, with all the blood mages running around, I didn't really have a choice."

"But you don't believe in the Circles." It wasn't a question; from what had been said in Varric's _Tale of the Champion_, that much was obvious.

"I'm not one to willingly lock myself away in a cage for all eternity, no," answered the apostate, a wry little grin forming on her lips. "That's _far_ too boring for me! My father taught me well, Herald: I'm not stupid enough to consort with demons and I don't trick easily; I don't _need_ to be confined to a Circle. But..."

"But?" she prompted, brow furrowing a bit as she took in the more solemn expression that the other mage wore.

"But, if my time in Kirkwall taught me anything, it's that most mages are either too stupid or too naïve to avoid turning into a sodding blood mage at the slightest provocation. Most mages belong in a Circle, though I sympathize with their desire for freedom."

"That's an interesting stance."

Hawke only barked out a laugh at that, giving her head a shake and backtracking a bit. "When the Order is doing what they're _supposed_ to be doing - and, you know, not being driven mad by an evil lyrium idol or being ruled by an envy demon - I actually _like_ them. Now, at least. I didn't always have that opinion."

Figuring it best not to dive _too_ deeply into a political conversation, the Inquisitor only nodded her head in acknowledgement. Instead, she allowed her train of thought to fly back to that military advisor of hers. "You... knew our Commander back in Kirkwall, didn't you? I know he stepped in to save your life when Knight-Commander Meredith turned on you at the last moment, but you had experience with him before, right? The thing I've never understood is how... well, how you, uh-"

"How I managed to remain an apostate when I was working right alongside the Knight-Captain?" Hawke finished for her, a wry grin in place.

"He doesn't seem the type to take his duty lightly. Yet you were never arrested."

"Only because he didn't _know_," came the response. "The first time I met Cullen, I stumbled upon him interrogating a recruit that ended up being an abomination. My friends and I jumped in to help him with the fight. I used _blades_."

"You fought abominations without using magic?"

"I was standing right in front of the bloody _Knight-Captain_! I'm sure Varric's told you some embarrassing stories of me, Trevelyan, but I am no fool. I gave Cullen no reason to suspect I was anything but another warrior, using some kind of strange double-bladed mace. He believed it to the point that he once told me 'mages are not people like you and I!' Oh, it took everything in me not to laugh at the irony."

"But everyone eventually found out. Your battle with the Arishok-"

"He suspected it after a while; there were rumors, as discreet as I tried to be. He straight up told me at one point that he found them disturbing and hoped that they weren't true. But I had helped him out on a _lot_ of cases by that point, and I had turned in a good number of apostates, myself; I think he respected me too much to listen to rumors without any proof. And then, of course, I became Champion, after a very _public_ battle where I was forced to use magic, yes. Well, they couldn't exactly arrest the _Champion_, could they?"

"Even still!"

Hawke only smiled at the disbelief. "Power can unlock the world, Inquisitor. You should know that." With a little wink to show she meant no offense, the mage continued down the hill, leading the way to where the majority of the Order was camped, down in the valley just outside of Skyhold. "He talked to me less, after that. I got the impression Meredith had blamed _him_ for my lack of arrest, but - again - there was nothing that could have been done at that point. Until the chantry blew up, at least. They were going to arrest me _then_, you know. That was Cullen's plan all along, until at the last second, Meredith attempted to _kill_ me, instead."

"For someone he was about to arrest, then, you seem awfully friendly with him."

"And you're not? Were you not a prisoner at first? He's a good man; that's why you have him on your team, and that's why I'll never be able to hold a grudge against him. Plus, he's fun to mess with."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, the Herald blinked her eyes closed for a minute. "Hawke, _please_ don't pull any pranks on my military advisor! I already had to scold Sera for that."

"I make no promises," was all that Champion offered, sending a much more mischievous wink, before sobering up as an armored man made his approach. "Ah, Barry! Would you please tell our dear Inquisitor that you were the one who begged me to come cast some spells on your men?"

The man sent a long look in the apostate's direction, a mixture of disapproval and amusement clear in his expression. Evelyn decided she could understand the feeling. "Your Worship," he said in greeting once he turned his attention away from Hawke. "I assure you, there was no begging involved."

"That doesn't surprise me, Ser Barris," the redhead responded with a laugh. "The real question is, did Hawke exaggerate your _consent_, as well?"

"No. The Champion actually made a very good case... when _she_ asked me to consider." Another sideways glance was sent in the apostate's direction, before Ser Barris met the Inquisitor's gaze again. "If the Order is to remain sharp enough to combat this Venatori threat, then our men could use some more practice. We would welcome your help on the matter, Your Worship."

Vivienne's earlier advice still in mind, the Herald offered a smile and extended her arm toward the training field. "On your orders, Ser Barris."

The man immediately dipped his head in response, turning and calling the other knights to him. A few brief orders later, and he turned back to the two mages, the men behind him shifting into two groups: a large group that formed a small semi-circle around the training field, and a small group of two lines of five. "Champion, Inquisitor: if you would each cast a weak area spell, the men will start by cleansing the area to disrupt the magic. From there, we'll move to practicing more defensive maneuvers."

"Finally! Some _fun_!"

With an amused snort, the Inquisitor gave another nod to Ser Barris before stepping forward and joining Hawke a few feet closer to the field. Neither mage held a staff in hand, but neither would truly need one, for a staff only channeled a mage's energy, and neither mage intended to cast a strong enough spell to require that level of channeling. The Champion's fingers twitched at her side, the Inquisitor simply taking a deep, calming breath.

"Now."

Without hesitation, the Inquisitor raised her hands over her head, calling forth a simple lightning storm at the same time that fireballs began to fall from the sky just a few feet over. Evelyn wasn't oblivious to the shifting that came from the Templars to their right, but it was the two knights who stepped forward from the small lines on the left that had her attention. Within seconds, the magical storms were cleared.

"Again."

This time, Hawke cast first, calling forth a lightning storm that crackled in the air with extra energy. The Inquisitor, on the other hand, only laughed, calling forth a small little blizzard of her own. The storms disappeared quickly.

"Mine's more powerful than yours," came the sing-songy taunt from beside her, but the Herald paid no mind.

"Again."

A raging blizzard appeared on one side of the field, a gentle firestorm on the other. Both vanished a second later. The next two sets featured glyphs, followed by another round of elemental storms, where, again, one storm raged and the other merely existed. The Inquisitor refused to rise to the bait. Another few rounds, though, and only one storm appeared - a small, gentle blizzard. Hawke was out of mana, and looking quite irritated with the fact. The storm disappeared.

Without waiting for her fellow mage to regain her abilities, the Herald called forth another storm, this one a mid-sized Tempest. The crackling in the air was almost enough to cover the sounds of shouts and clanking armor - _almost_.

Evelyn spun around just in time to see three heavily-armored figures jogging down the hill, the fortress of Skyhold in the background. The crackling from behind her silenced, the three men slowing their pace. The apparent leader raised his hand, coming to a stop a few meters away. His free hand lifted to flip open the lid hiding his face from view, an irritated looking Lieutenant Davis standing before the two mages. "Inquisitor?" Disapproval was clear in his voice as he spoke. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Training," she answered immediately.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" Ser Barris asked as he stepped forward, situating himself beside the redheaded mage at about the same time Hawke ducked back out of the stand-off.

Davis allowed his gaze to shift between the mage and the Templar, lowering the hand he had been holding up and stepping forward conspiratorially. His voice immediately dropped in volume. "Why wasn't this approved?"

"It _was_," Barris immediately contradicted, "by myself and by our Inquisitor. I have been in charge of the Order's training over the past few weeks, and I was directly supervising this exercise. I apologize for not informing any of the former Templars of what would be occurring; that was short-sighted of me."

"It was shortsighted of _me_," Evelyn dismissed. "I apologize for worrying you over nothing, Lieutenant."

For a moment, Davis appeared torn, before nodding his head once. "See that it doesn't happen again. The Commander will not-"

"The Commander will speak for himself." The large figure of the military advisor appeared in the triangle of the hushed conversation, an arm raising to clasp a hand on his Lieutenant's shoulder. "Everything's alright, Davis. I've been here the whole time."

_That_ news had the wheels in the Herald's mind turning, wondering how she had managed to miss the Commander's presence. He must have been several hundred meters away, working with the bulk of the Inquisition's normal forces when she and Hawke had approached.

"Everything's under control here; you can return to your post," the Commander added in dismissal a moment later, earning a sharp salute from the Lieutenant before he turned and led his men away. As the footsteps faded in the distance, the man turned his attention to the present Templar. "Ser Barris, I'm afraid I must borrow the Inquisitor for a moment. Can you make do with only the Champion?"

"I can, Serah."

"Then you may continue your training. But... do keep an eye on her, would you?" the advisor instructed, waiting for an affirmative nod before he stepped away, arm extended in a gesture to walk with him. "Inquisitor?"

"Of course, Commander," was Evelyn's immediate response as she turned and followed after him, the silence companionable as he led her down the frozen river. "'Keep an eye on her?'" she quoted after a few moments, her lips pulled into a smile as she sent a glance up in his direction. "And here I thought you trusted mages." Her tone was teasing, and, luckily, he seemed well aware of that.

"Anyone would be a fool to trust Hawke, Herald," he returned, the little hint of his sideways smirk the only indication of his amusement. "When _that_ woman gets bored... Well, that's actually what I wanted to speak to you about. Would it be possible for you to bring her along on any of your upcoming missions? I'm certain she could be useful for you in combat."

Evelyn's amusement only grew. "Are you trying to get rid of her?"

"No!" Cullen was quick to admit, before just as quickly letting out a little sigh. "Yes."

"I can speak to her about bothering you, Commander. I'm sure she'll refrain from monopolizing your time."

"It's not..." He lifted a hand, palm pressing to his forehead before he let his fingers run through his hair. "It's not that she's monopolizing my time. It's... I'm not... I would simply prefer it if she were kept busy, until you help track down this Warden lead she's been talking about."

A red-tinted brow arched, a hint of surprise on the woman's face. Cullen _never_ sounded so flustered - not in normal conversation, at least. So just what was it that Hawke was doing to bother him so much? "Very well," she agreed, rather than voicing her question aloud. "I'll see if I can't bring her with me tomorrow, and I'll have Ser Barris use her in training if I cannot. Is that suitable?"

"Yes, My Lady. Thank you."

She merely nodded, hesitating for a moment before deciding that the conversation was over and turning to head back to the training. She got only two steps.

"Inquisitor?"

"Yes?" she replied, turning back to look at him and immediately deciding that she didn't like the look on his face. She stepped back towards him, brows worried. "Commander?"

"One of our patrols had an... interesting report, today," he told her, his gaze turned downwards as he turned something over in his hands. "They'd been in the Hinterlands for the past two weeks, dealing with the group of rogue Templars that recently resurfaced. They found- Well, Leliana and I thought you might want to see this."

Without saying anything more, he looked up, extending one of his hands and revealing a slim chain with a sapphire amulet attached to it. She recognized it instantly, reaching out and stealing it away from the Commander's armored hand. Turning it over in her own hands, she revealed the inscribed crest on the back, the two little initials standing out against the background. Her chest constricted around her heart.

"I noticed the crest of the Ostwick Circle. I'm sorry."

She didn't look up at him, simply staring down at the amulet for a long moment. "Where was it found?"

"On one of the rogues."

Clutching the thing, Evelyn stole a quick glance up to meet those sorrowful golden eyes. She kept the emotion out of her voice. "And that rogue is...?"

"Dead, along with the others."

"Then there is nothing to be sorry for. Thank you for bringing it to me," she decided, before lifting the trinket and slipping it over her head. She could feel the centering magic immediately, but even it could not calm the storm of emotions within her. "If there's nothing else, Commander, I should get back to helping with the Order's training."

"Inquisitor-"

She expected his objection, knew he would argue that she was too emotional to be out casting, that she return to Skyhold and leave the training to Ser Barris and Hawke. After all, he couldn't have an emotional mage running around and casting spells at Templars, could he?

"I _am_ sorry."

She shifted, sending a long, calculating look in his direction. "You're not going to stop me?" she asked, her tone a mixture of surprise and wariness.

He only furrowed his brow, appearing confused by her suggestion. The confusion faded into enlightenment a moment later, before shifting to just a hint of humor. "If I was going to stop anyone from training, it would have been Hawke, My Lady. _You_, I have nothing but faith in."

He began walking back toward the rest of his soldiers before she could properly respond.


End file.
